


Baked My Way Into Your Heart

by thathyperloudfangirlchick



Series: Baked My Way Into Your Heart [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Age Difference, Dancer, F/M, Fluff, Past Abuse, Reader-Insert, Secret Relationship, baker - Freeform, domestic life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 09:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4700501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thathyperloudfangirlchick/pseuds/thathyperloudfangirlchick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your relationship with Aaron Hotchner has been eleven months of sweet, loving, domestic bliss, ignorance being bliss since you two insist on keeping the relationship a secret. However, the ignorant don't stay that way for long, and Murphy's Law basically states that if you have a secret, it will come out in the most astounding way possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

          "Y/N…” Aaron groans as you flop onto the bed and nestle into his side. He throws an arm over your waist and nuzzles the top of your hair. “Hmm. You smell like fresh bread and sugar.”  
          

          “Working the night baker shift does that.” You trace his jaw with your nose and hum while glancing at the bedside alarm clock. 6:00, hoo boy. “Sorry for waking you up early, babe. You have work in an hour, right?” Aaron turns onto his back, and you sit up, resting your chin on his bare sternum. He brushes the hair out of your face and looks at you affectionately.  
         

          “It’s alright. I had to get up in half an hour anyway, and your boundless energy is just one of the many downsides of dating a youngin like you, isn’t it?” You pinch his nipple with a huff, and he laughs at you, tweaking your nose in return.  
         

           “You weren’t complaining about me being a “youngin” when I did that thing in bed the other day, were you, sweets?” you tease as you lift yourself to your hands and knees over his body, your tongue tracing a faint line down his chest. He smiles and cradles your head in his hands as he pulls you to face level and kisses you, your lips caressing each other slowly as you lower your body to lay gently on top of his. You rest your cheek on his collar and close your eyes, breathing deeply as his fingertips rub the small of your back under your dress.  
          

          “Mm, I guess dating a twenty year old has its perks,” he jests, grinning at you as he squeezes your ass and laughing when you squeak and blush. You bite his shoulder in retaliation.  
          

          “You guess, your ass; dating me has ALL the perks, and you know it. I am a DELIGHT.”  
          

          “Mhm, a delight who still has flour in her hair.” You pout at him, indignant.  
          

          “You take a night shift in a hot kitchen and maintain this level of perfection, okay? I would have taken a shower, BUT,” you say, grinding your hips against his boxer clad groin, “I figure my sexy, sexy, needy boyfriend missed me too much to wait another second for me.” You pepper light kisses on his jawline before nibbling on his earlobe. “Cause you did miss me.” He groans before biting your neck and grabbing your hips, flipping you two over.  
          

          “I miss you all the time, but if we have sex right now, I’ll be late for work.” He presses a chaste kiss to your lips and untangles himself from the blanket. “I’ll be taking that shower first then.”  
          

          “Of course, of course, age before beauty and all,” you say, winking at him and smacking his ass on your way out the bedroom to wake up Jack.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

          “Pancakes?” you offer, holding out a plate of blueberry flapjacks to Aaron. He takes the plate graciously before sitting down at the table with Jack.  
         

          “Good morning, champ! Did you sleep well?” He asks Jack, ruffling his hair. Jack answers with a garbled sound, undecipherable behind the mouthful of food. Aaron watches affectionately as you giggle and dab at Jack’s syrup-sticky cheek, zipping up the little munchkin’s lunchbox before sitting down to your own plate of breakfast.  
          

          “So, what’s on the agenda today, G-man?” you ask, pouring him a cup of coffee. He accepts it gratefully, smiling at you while his fingertips linger on your hand.  
         

          “We have a new case today, some international drug smuggling. However, the smuggler seems to be using our airport as his hub, so I’m probably staying local this time. Hopefully, that means I won’t be home too late. And you, Y/N?”  
          

          “Ooh, today is going to be an exciting day!” You exclaim bouncing in your seat. You excitedly start waving around your utensils as you speak. “Remember that choreographer from France that I follow and watch all the time? Yeah, you do, I talk about it all the time, the genius, ANYWAY, remember how he said on his blog that he was coming stateside this week? Well I emailed him asking if he could possibly free up some time to teach a class today it was a longshot I know but I had hope for my students we all love him and surprisingly he said YES!! He’s coming today to teach a routine done in HEELS? Can you believe it?!” You finally take a breath and a sip of your water as Aaron levels you with a look. “It’s such an honor for Danis Beauchamp to teach us. I mean, I’m a dance teacher, but I’m nowhere near this man’s level, honey.”  
          

          “God, you are the only person allowed to call me honey.” He grabs your chin and lightly kisses your lips. “And no matter what, your dancing is always the most beautiful to me.” You practically melt in your seat as you grin and reply with a kiss of your own.  
          

          “Daddy! Mommy! Ewwwww!” Jack yelps, covering his eyes. Both of your heads snap towards the boy, as you process what he just called you.  
          

          “Jack, sweetie… Did you just call me your mommy?” you ask, kneeling next to Jack’s chair. He looks at you plainly.  
          

          “Yeah… You live with us now and you take care of me and you and Daddy love each other and I love you so you’re my mommy.” Your eyes start to tear up at Jack’s simple but loving statement before you worriedly look towards Aaron. Jack had said the phrase that you two were so skillfully dancing around and not to mention you weren’t even officially living together since you still shared an apartment with your college friend ten minutes away and god forbid Aaron start to think you were trying to replace Haley in either of their heart-  
And you had nothing to worry about. When you turned to look at him, Aaron was staring at you and Jack with the most profound, obvious love in his eyes, the tears that you were holding back finally started to flow as you held Jack to your chest. You showed no signs of stopping, even when Aaron joined you on the floor and wrapped his arms around the both of you.


	2. Chapter 2

          "What's got you so chipper, Hotch?" Rossi asks, staring questioningly at the unusually relaxed man as they stand in the elevator. Hotch just looks at him through the side of his eyes, trying to tamper down the smile that's been attempting to break out on his face since breakfast.

          "I've no idea what you're talking about, Dave." Hotch nonchalantly smooths down his suit and glances at his watch. He wondered when he would be able to get home tonight; he should start spending more time with Y/N, since it's almost their one year anniversary.

          "See, see that right there! I dare say you've been happier lately. Sometimes, I ALMOST see you smile." Hotch just shakes his head and laughs as the elevator doors open, and they head towards the conference room. "I'd hazard a guess there's a woman involved. There hasn't been anyone since that barista eight months ago."

          "Eight months, 1 week, and two days, to be exact," Reid pipes in, falling into stride next to the two older men. "And yet, one would say Hotch has been seeing someone lately, considering his relaxed demeanor, 27% increase in how many times he looks at his watch, and 47% increase of smiling when he thinks we aren't looking." Hitch carefully schooled his body language, not allowing any signs to show that they had said anything true; damn his coworkers for being so perceptive, damn profilers. He opened the door to the conference room, fully prepared to focus on the case, to focus on anything but the clandestine love life he kept hidden from his team.

          "Ha, see, I knew it wasn't just me," Rossi boasted, waving his finger knowingly.

          "Not the only one what?" Garcia asked, turning towards them with a bewildered look. Hotch sat down, sending a stern look towards Rossi and Reid so they'd do the same.

          "They're not the only ones not prepared to be briefed on the case," he replied, sending a similar stern look towards her. Garcia jumped out of her seat, hustling towards the screen.

          "Of course, sir; sorry, sir. SO. Today, we are dealing with an international drug ring, working out from somewhere in Europe, evidence hints towards Paris, France. Normally, drug rings aren't our division, but at six thirty this morning, the local police received an anonymous call, revealing the position of a dead body, brutally beaten and and cocaine rubbed into all of the wounds. The face was so badly marred that we have yet to ID the body, so we're waiting on fingerprints and DNA on that." Garcia shuddered and turned her back to the images of the bloody corpse.

          "The anonymous caller, after revealing the location, also gave a garbled message where the only word retrieved so far is “teacher” before hanging up. This call was bounced off of three different cell towers, but we managed to triangulate it to a local dance hall and studio. Higher-ups handed us this case in hopes that in catching the killer, we would contribute to the downfall of the entire operation.” Hotch nodded distractedly as he perused the papers.

          “Okay. Rossi, Morgan, head to the crime scene, see what we can gather about the UNSUB there; Reid, JJ, head to the dance hall, talk to people there, try to connect them to the call. I’ll stay here with Garcia and work with what we have and find out more about this drug ring.” He ended the briefing with the nod, and everyone got up to do their jobs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

          ‘Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit shitting piece of cocksucking motherwhoring shit,’ you thought. You closed your eyes and counted to three, praying that the people you saw reflected in the mirror were NOT in fact your illicit boyfriend’s coworker’s slash family who for the love of God would only be here if something bad were going down SHIT. You cracked a single eye open, hoping to God they might not be there, and sweet Jesus, one of your sweet baby students is pointing right at you. You take a deep breath and walk over to the FBI agents, attempting to convince yourself the sound of your heels clicking on the floor makes you confident. It doesn’t.“Hello, I’m SSA Dr. Spencer Reid, this is SSA Jennifer Jareau. We’re with the FBI. Do you work here?”

          “Yes, I do. My name is Y/N Y/L/N; I’m a the hip hop and modern dance teacher here, hence my appearance.” You pause to gesture at yourself, grimacing at the reflection of you in your black tank, short shorts, heels, and messy black and green hair in the mirror. “I just finished my second class of the day a few minutes ago, so please pardon my mess. What can I do ya for?”“Miss Y/L/N, at six o’clock this morning, we received a call about a crime that occurred a couple of blocks from here; you wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” You cross your arms and purse your lips in befuddlement.

          “Hmm, no, I don’t. I mean, this is a relatively tame area, no violent crimes or break-ins that I know of. Is that what the crime was?” JJ shakes her head, lowering her chin in sympathy.

          “Actually, Miss, the call we received was about a murder in the area. A man was heavily beaten and murdered two blocks from here, and we discovered this body because someone called from this location to tell us where it was. Tell me, do you have any co-workers or students that may be involved with violence or dangerous activities?” You shook your head vigorously, eyes widening at the thought.

          “Absolutely not! My kids, they’re good kids, great, well-behaved kids! And, I only have two co-workers, and they’re as middle-class, picket fence as you can get! Besides, hard drugs like cocaine are killer for dancers. Using make you lose weight, make you weak. Any serious dancer, and most students here are, knows that.”

          “Okay. Tell me about your co-workers then, miss Y/L/N. Are they also teachers?” You nodded, waving at students passing you on your way out.

          “I have two co-workers, Jacob and Martha McNamara. They’re married; they both teach here and own the studio together. Martha is the ballet and waltz instructor while Jacob teaches the Latin dances, and they’re each other’s partners for when they teach. They’re the perfect couple, so neither of them could have anything to do with drugs or a murder! In fact, Martha has been on leave for two months, pregnant,” you argue. Reid nods as you speak, taking notes. He and JJ share a look before simultaneously turning towards you. You could tell so well they were close; they must have practiced that.

          “One last question, Miss, and then we’ll get out of your hair.” You nod and smile, happy to help and finally meet the amiable people you had heard so much about. “We never mentioned the cocaine rubbed into the corpse’s wounds or the fact we suspect he’s related to a drug ring. How did you know about those?” Nope. You lied. You are not happy to help, you are not happy to help them, holy shit you just shot yourself in the foot with a fuckin machine gun you are so screwed. The panic must show on your face, because Reid surreptitiously reaches for the handcuffs on his belt. “Miss Y/L/N, where were you at six o’clock this morning?” You stuttered, balking at being caught in a lie that you weren’t sure you were allowed to give up.

          “I-I was in my apartment. I worked the night shift last night and got home around that time. No, I don’t have anyone to back me up on that, because my roommate is on a business retreat.” You cringe outwardly and curse the lack of filter between your brain and your mouth, knowing what you probably just made yourself the prime suspect. JJ and Reid nod to each other; Reid moves behind you and takes your arms while JJ reads you your rights.

          “Y/N Y/L/N, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law-”

          Well, fuck.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

          Well, fuck.

          “Is that a suspect in the interrogation room?” Aaron asks, filled with dread. He presses his fingertips to his eyelids, praying that when he opens his eyes, it won’t be his illicit girlfriend on the other side of that one way mirror. He opens them, and sure enough, Y/N is still in there, still in her dance clothes, tapping her heels against the floor incessantly. ‘Oh,’ Aaron’s heart went out to her. ‘She must be terrified,’ he thinks.

          “Suspect numero uno, that is correct, boss man,” Garcia confirms, tapping away at her tablet. “Her name is Y/N Y/L/N, twenty years old, lived in New Orleans for seventeen years with parents, who were under suspicions of abusing her until she ran away to live with her aunt here. Since then, she received her GED, went to community college to get certifications in Culinary Arts and Dance, and currently shares an apartment with her friend and works as a dance teacher slash baker. Brought here as a suspect because she works as a teacher at the studio, has no alibi for the murder this morning, and seemed to know this was related to drugs without having been told.” Spencer furrows his brow, looking through the glass at the fidgety young girl as she bites her nails.

          “She may be related to this case, but I highly doubt she’s our UNSUB. I mean, look at her. She shows no signs of drug use, and she’s, what, 5’3, 5’4? She doesn’t look capable of brutally beating our victim, who had what, ten inches on her?” Garcia pats Reid’s shoulder.

          “Well, if she didn’t kill our vic, it might be reasonable to assume she knows who does. She seemed awfully defensive when she said that she nor her coworkers or students did drugs. It looks like she’s hiding something,” JJ replied.

          “I’ll just have to get it out of her then. I’m going in,” Morgan said, patting JJ’s shoulder as he walks past, into the interrogation room, much to Hotch’s behest who would rather have anyone interrogate his girl than the easily angered Morgan. His lips tighten in concern as he watches him sit across from you, his body language exuding strength and intimidation. He couldn’t help but frown as you seemed to shrink in his presence.

          ‘This is not going to go well.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

          ‘This is not going to go well,’ is the first thing that pops into your head as Derek Morgan sits down, glaring at you from the moment he walked into the room. You knew about him. You knew that outside this room, he was a flirty, lovable carebear. However, you knew that INSIDE this room, he could be an angry, aggressive authority figure, and you were really not feeling lucky about your chances.

          “So, Y/N,” he stated, flipping through your file. “What were you doing last night, around the time of the murder?”

          “The murder I didn’t commit, you mean. I was at home. I had just gotten home from the night shift at VA Sweets. I take the night baker shift when it’s open, it’s good money. That was around 5:30. After that, I drove back home, headed back to my apartment in the suburbs. I needed to get to sleep, I had a class to teach at ten and a guest teacher to greet at twelve and and-” you stop yourself, finally acknowledging the pain in your scalp that came from the incessant hair-pulling you do when you’re stressed and under pressure. “I didn’t do this. I have nothing to do with this.” Morgan meets your eyes as he tosses your file onto the table, his mouth tightening in some negative emotion you did not want to identify.

          “Funny. You say you went home after your night shift, but your alarm company says otherwise.” You close your eyes at this, the breath catching in your throat. “ In fact, the alarm company’s records say that no one has gone in and out of your apartment in in 27 hours. So where exactly were you before and after work?

          “Okay, you caught me. I was… out. Went to a bar, picked up a dude, had a one night stand, stayed at his place a couple of hours, then went to class. I didn’t want to mention it earlier, cause I have a reputation, an image to uphold. Students and their parents like me, they trust me, they think I’m this adorable thing, I’m young, I’m cute, making sure they keep thinking I’m cute is just in my best interest and the best interest of the studio.” Morgan nodded, folding his hands in front of him.

          “And how did you know about the drugs?”

          “Your friends, your coworkers, they said dangerous behavior, my head automatically went to drugs. Not the nicest or healthiest of associations, but it’s true. Drugs is like half the definition of dangerous activities, and I told your coworkers, drugs can be a serious problem in the dancing community. Lots of performer under stress or in hard times will turn to drugs to help them perform. It decreases their need to sleep, their need to rest, helps them lose weight faster and without effort, I mean, just four months ago, a girl of mine started dabbling in heroin, and we could tell, quick as can be. She lost like ten pounds in two weeks and fainted during a waltz class. In fact, she was in the class I had just finished today, so you can understand why drugs came to mind.” You concluded, finally look at the FBI agent in front of you. “You believe me, don’t you?”

          “Not in the slightest.” You sighed and hung your head as Morgan leaned towards you. “I’ll tell you what I do believe though. I believe that you killed our vic, I believe you’re working with the drug ring, and I believe we’re gonna lock you up for it.” You rise up, indignant.

          “I would never! I told you I didn’t do it, and I meant it! I had absolutely nothing to do with this!” Morgan rose up to meet you, slamming both of his hands on the metal table for pointing a finger in your face. You cringed, shirking away from his angry eyes and  the harsh bang of his hands pounding the surface.

          “You say that, but you’ve been lying since we picked you up. You’re a liar and a drug runner and a murderer, Y/N, and your lies are going to get other people killed. You’re going to go to jail for a long fucking time unless you TELL US THE TRUTH.” Morgan kicks his chair away, making it clang against the wall, and you shriek, jumping back and hiding in the left corner of the room. You hide behind your arms as you duck your head and spout apologies. Morgan was about to push further until Hotch burst into the room, pushing Morgan out of the way and kneeling down next to your whimpering form.

          “Shh, shh, Y/N, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m sorry you had to go through that, I should have stopped it, shh,” he said soothingly, pressing his lips against your hair and rubbing your back in slow circular motions. You tilt your head to look up at him, and Morgan cringes at the tears running from your red-rimmed eyes.

          “No, no, Aaron, I’m sorry, I blew it, I didn’t think what was coming out my mouth, and I couldn’t cover for us I’m sorry I know you didn’t want this to happen this way and I ruined it I ruined us, I’m so so sorry Aaron,” you sobbed, hiding behind your hands once more. Aaron gripped them, pulling your hands away from your face, and laid a gentle kiss on the corner of your eye.

          “It’s fine, sweetie. I shouldn’t have kept us secret for this long anyway, this is my fault, and I should have intervened, I know you’re not capable of sitting through a high stress situation like an interrogation, it’s not your fault, you ruined nothing,” he said, brushing the tears away from your eyes with his sleeve. Your eyes dart away from him, and then you close them, hiding behind his arm. Aaron turns to see the rest of his team leak into the room, staring in bewilderment.

          “Hotch…?” Spencer asks. “Do you know this girl?” Aaron nods, patting the back of your head.

          “Yes, I do. Y/N isn’t the UNSUB nor is she related to the case. She knew we were investigating a drug ring, because I told her this morning. She also hasn’t been to her apartment in 27 hours, because half of the time, she lives with me and Jack. Y/N and I have been together for eleven months now, and she didn’t tell you during questioning because I asked her if we could keep our relationship a secret until I was ready.”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

          The coworkers stood flabbergasted as Hotch offers his hand to you, a whimpering mass in the corner, and gingerly helps you up. He uprights your chair and pats your shoulders. You sit down quietly, keeping your head down, and Hotch gently placed his hand on your hair as he faced his team. Rossi seems the only person able to stand up in the face of Hotch’s protective air, the only one able to speak what was on everyone’s mind.  

          “Hotch, is there some other reason you’re protecting this girl…? You don’t have to lie to us.” The room feels instantly colder as you and Hotch, a pair, tense at his words. You visibly jerked, upset, but it is Hotch’s cold glare and clenched fist at his side that alert Rossi to the insult he may have just presented. Hotch’s gaze becomes gentle when he looks toward you, stroking your hair, while his other hand takes out his phone and unlocks it. He tosses it to Rossi without a glance.

          “Look at the pictures, the videos, and look at the dates on them. That should be all the proof you and the bureau need. Can Y/N leave now?” Hotch asks impatiently, his tender gaze still on you. You cautiously life your head up to meet his eyes. You offer a tentative smile, and he offers a comforting quirk of the lips in the return as his thumb brushes against your cheek. The team in the room feels vaguely uncomfortable in the presence of such an intimate moment and even more so as they do what he said and look through the pictures. His photo folder is filled with family pictures, the first one of you and Jack with frosting on your faces, dated more than nine months ago. The most recent one of Jack on your shoulders is even displayed as his home screen.

          “We… we will take this to Strauss,” Rossi says, already heading out the door. He pops his head back in when the others stay in the room. “When I say, we, I meant allll of us, out, leave them be,” he insists, shooing everyone out. When everyone has left, he addresses the two of you. “I’m sure Strauss will understand there’s been a misunderstanding, and you will be released as soon as possible, Miss Y/L/N.” You look at him and nod, a relieved smile on your face.

          “Thank you very much, Agent Rossi. I’m sorry for all the trouble I must have caused you.” Hesitantly, he nods, surprised by the politeness you offer in the face of your fear and guilt, and gingerly closes the door behind him. The smile immediately drops from your face as the stranger leaves, abolishing the need for such politeness, and you turn your gaze towards the folded hands in your lap. The silence seems stifling to you, your only comfort being Hotch’s touch as he sweetly stroked your hair, and you jump slightly when he breaks the silence by kneeling at your side.

          “Y/N…? Are you alright? Please speak to me…” At the sweet, gentle tone of Aaron’s voice, tears welled up in your eyes again. You quickly cover your face, hating letting anyone see you in such a state.

          “I’m so sorry… I ruined everything, I’m so so sorry,” you apologize. Aaron shushes you and takes hold of your hands, brushing his thumbs against your knuckles. He knows you are always comforted by his hands entirely enclosing yours, but your sorrow seems inconsolable today as you refuse to look him in the eye. “I was supposed to keep us a secret, but I failed, I let my big mouth get ahead of me, they weren’t supposed to find out like this and NOW, NOW their first impression of me is that I’m a probable criminal who can’t even lie to save her life, I mean they ARRESTED me for god’s sake, that’s your team’s first impression of your girlfriend, Aaron, as someone they ARRESTED. For MURDER. MURDER, AARON.” You stop, finally taking a frustrated breath, and remove your hands from his grip. You become even more disgruntled when you wipe your eyes and the tears refuse to stop. “I can understand if you want to break up with me now…” At that, Aaron’s already stern face becomes unhappy, and he briskly takes your face in his hands.

          “Y/N… Why on earth do you think I would want to do that?” You scoff, brushing his hands away.

          “Umm, because I ruined everything. We had such a great morning with Jack, and I ruined it by getting ARRESTED and now your friends hate me or if they don’t hate me, they’re not going to think I’m good enough for you because I started crying in a corner when they interrogated me and of course there’s my age and Rossi thought you were lying to cover up for me somehow because you being with me is beyond their suspension of disbelief, and if that doesn’t say something about what the rest of them are thinking, I don’t know what does.” You finish, throwing your hands up in the air and basically faceplanting on the table. Aaron can’t help but smile at the drama of your rants and stands up, leaning against the table.

          “It seems really bad, but I can assure you, you ruined nothing. If you think about it, this could actually have been a good thing. This will be a funny story eventually, and this saves you the trouble of agonizing and planning when we were going to tell them and what you were going to wear or say.” He pats your head sweetly. “Now, it’s over. They’ve met you, and I’m positive that when they get to know you, they will love you just as much as I do.” He smiles as you sit up quickly, your eyes darting from side to side as Hotch watches the cogs in your pretty little head turn to process the information. You finally turn towards him, a look of amazement and awe-struck happiness on your face?

          “You love me?” you ask. You kick your heels off and kneel on top of the table, taking Aaron’s face in your hands and looking down into his eyes. “Really? You really do?” Your fingertips caress the lines of his face as you look incredulously at the man you love, unbelieving he could love you back. As if reading your mind, he comfortingly cradles your cheek in hand and places his other hand on your hip.

          “Y/N… I fell in love with you the moment we met and have been slowly falling more and more in love with you each day. I don’t love you despite your age, despite your bad habits, despite the pain you hold in your heart. I love you, because every part of you makes you the perfect person you are, the perfect mother, the perfect partner. Never, for one moment from here on out, doubt that you are perfect for me and Jack.” The hand on your cheek sweetly thumbs away the tears at the corner of your eye before he presses a kiss there. You lean into that gentle touch and grip the lapels of his suit.

          “Say it again.” He smiles and presses a kiss to your trembling lips.

          “I love you, Y/N, and I will tell you that every day for as long as you’ll have me.” He kisses you again and again, pressing quick, sweet pecks all over your face, kissing away the happy tears. You sit back on your ankles and nestle your face in his chest, your hands reaching around Aaron to clutch the fabric of his suit jacket. Aaron’s arms wrap around your shoulders while you rest your cheek on his shoulder.

          “I love you too, you know. Although, I don’t really love your timing.” Aaron looks down at you, confused, and you smile, giggling at his expression. He loves that smile, loves your giggle, and hearing it now after seeing you cry just leeches all the tension from his body. “We just said we love each other for the first time. Usually, that would be a great segue into romantic, awesome sex. Unfortunately, an interrogation room with a one-way mirror isn’t the best place for that.” He laughs,  leaning his forehead against your shoulder.

          “You realize we record all interrogations, and that we’re still actually being recorded?” You whip your head around, finding the camera in the upper corner of the room, and smirk.

          “Oh, honey, I take it back, this sounds like the perfect place then.” You shriek and giggle as Aaron pinches your side, his laughter at your shoulder reverberating through your body.

          “Y/N, you realize my team is probably on the other side of that mirror, right? I should probably go talk to them, get you out of here. You can all be formally introduced later, when you’re rested and changed. Besides, we should get you back to Jack.” You run your fingertips through the coarse, dark hairs at the nape of his neck, smiling into his skin.

          “Jack’s taken care of, love. I called Jessica to get him since I couldn’t.” You could feel Aaron’s smile on your skin, a happy expression matching your own.

          “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to stay like this a bit longer then.” He pulls you closer to him, and you take in a deep breath, finding insurmountable comfort in the tightness of his embrace where you belonged.


End file.
